A/N - Warning - In light of recent events and knowing the sensitivities of some, I just want to point out that this part (written long ago) involves the threat of an explosive device. I don't want to delay posting any more, because I know that many are waiting. Please use your discretion in reading this part.

A/N 2 - I've been asked about posting updates to 'F is for Fundamentals.' Yes, updates are possible - I've been working little at a time on that one, but haven't really reached a satisfactory place yet for posting more. Sorry that I can't offer any specifics on when I'll be ready for posting more.

Trinkets - Part 15

"This is one of my favorites," Clinton said proudly, taking out and holding up a small bar with some wires and an electronic timer attached to it. "Obviously, it's a bomb, but … it's a special invention of mine. It causes very local, very controlled explosions … with just the right amount of energy to blow body parts to bits."

Harm tried to examine the mechanism, searching for how to trigger the bomb. He knew that he wouldn't have the time or opportunity to set the clock on it, but if there was a pin to remove or wires to push together or pull apart to cause an immediate explosion, he might be able to get the thing to detonate right next to its inventor.

"I love this baby," Clinton continued, "because it's safe to use – for me anyway. I can be ten feet away and know I'll be in no danger when it blows …" He got a sort of dreamy, psychotic look on his face, as he finished, "but I can still enjoy being up close and personal."

Then he added, "It's often useful to have someone by my side to witness it, too. I find that forcing a person to watch someone they know being … vaporized into mere chunks of flesh before their eyes … Well, … it does wonders for getting cooperation."

Harm wasn't listening. Not really. … Except hearing that being ten feet away was safe. That meant that he could set the bomb off up here, and not have to worry about Mac getting hurt downstairs.

"This one time," Clinton bragged, "I actually blew off just a guy's leg, but kept him alive to talk. And talk he did! … So that I wouldn't blow any other parts of him to kingdom come! … I kept my word and didn't hurt him anymore. … Though he did die from blood loss."

The only thing in Harm's ears now was the rushing of blood. Where was the trigger? The damn thing was too small to really see any details from where he was.

"It's an art form, really."

Harm registered Clinton's last comment only enough for a fleeting thought that this guy was a sicko, … just like Palmer. But it was time to move. Harm took one last look at the monitor where he saw the picture of Mac on her knees. He'd protect her. That's all that mattered.

Clinton continued rattling on. "You know, it's all about strategy and understanding your target. I mean, I wouldn't have blown your leg off, because it wouldn't have mattered, … you'd just consider it sacrificing yourself for the greater good. And killing Sarah quickly would have been counter-productive, because you would have completely shut down. With the one thing that mattered, the person who you really care about, gone … you would have had no reason to talk. … But threatening her, hurting her, … really gets under your skin and makes you -"

He suddenly stopped when he heard the clang of handcuffs hit the floor and saw a blur of uneasy, but determined, motion headed his way. Clinton grabbed the gun from his holster, but he was hit with full force before he could take the safety off.

Harm had called on every ounce of strength he had to propel himself towards his human target. When the gun came into view, he grabbed for it as he hit Clinton with all the weight he had.

Since Clinton had been trying to take the safety off with his one hand while placing the bomb on the floor with his other, he didn't have a good hold of the gun, allowing Harm the opportunity to get at it. But with his hands partly numb due to how he had held them up over the pipe again, Harm fumbled the metal weapon, and it fell to the floor, sliding a good five feet away.

Clinton started to reach for it, but Harm, already half on top of the other man, lunged forward again, keeping his opponent where he was. Clinton struck back, hitting Harm hard in the ribs. That move allowed Clinton to maneuver on top of Harm, though Harm kept Clinton from going after the gun by keeping his legs locked over the other man's.

(())

Mac was frozen. She had stopped her 'cleaning' when she heard noises above. Big thudding noises. She stayed on her knees, trying to decipher what developments were occurring upstairs. She wasn't sure at first if Harm had gotten himself free or if the people with the camera, which had since disappeared from the windowpane, had managed to break in on the second level.

She knew for sure that there was fighting up there, and, a moment later, recognizing Harm's distinctive voice grunt in pain, she easily discerned that Harm was in the scuffle … and was getting hurt. That was enough to set her into action, damn the consequences!

If Clinton electrocuted her, so be it, but Harm needed her help, so she had to at least try to get up there. Hopefully, Clinton was too occupied with fighting to bother keeping track of her at the moment. Besides, if Clinton was holding the remote, he'd probably zap her any second now anyway, whether accidentally in combat or purposely to punish Harm.

So, she sprung up and ran towards the stairs.

(())

Struggling to get his legs free, Clinton punched Harm in the face right over the place where he had struck him earlier with the chair. Harm ignored the stinging pain and the fresh blood that started flowing over his temple and cheek. His entire focus was on how to regain the upper hand. He used his elbow to slam into Clinton's jaw, which knocked the man off balance and allowed Harm to roll them over again. He was on top, and this time he managed to pin Clinton down in a proper hold.

Clinton struggled briefly before calming and stilling himself. To Harm's surprise, the other man smirked at him.

"You're in pain. … Your muscles are weak. … How long do you think you're going to be able to hold me down?"

"Long enough …" Harm replied, eyeing the bomb that was within arm's reach. Truthfully, his vision was becoming more blurred, but he knew what he had to do.

Harm quickly shifted his weight to better anchor himself over the other man so as to be able to grab the bomb. In one motion, he picked up the explosives and jammed the bar against Clinton's chest. "… to do what I need to do."

And with that, Harm flipped the activation switch that he found … and hit the detonation button.

(())

(())

Mac hadn't made it upstairs. Right before she had reached the staircase, she found her path impeded when a hand stretched out to grab her upper arm.

As the owner of the hand blocked her way, she pled to be allowed through, "I have to help."

"I'm under orders to keep you down here."

(())

Time seemed to stand still after Harm had hit that button.

He hadn't known what to expect – Instant oblivion? Intense pain? Immediate relief from the pain his poor body was already suffering?

As it turned out, it was none of those. He didn't feel any different at all, except for a sense of shock and disappointment. … Because nothing had happened. The bomb hadn't exploded. The weasel was still alive and well … and laughing at him.

"You thought I'd leave a fully operational bomb lying about in a bag that I left sitting around?" asked Clinton, amused by Harm's confused expression. "That's like leaving a loaded gun lying about in a house full of children."

Taking advantage of Harm's dumbfounded state, Clinton shoved him away and sat up. "There's a connector missing," he explained. "I don't put it in 'til I'm ready to use it."

TBC ...